


I Remember You

by sweetcarolanne



Category: Bandom, Black Sabbath, Real Person Fiction, The Ramones
Genre: Anal Sex, Drunk Sex, Hotel Sex, Kissing, M/M, One Night Stands, Relationship Advice, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:05:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5242586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetcarolanne/pseuds/sweetcarolanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drunken one-night stand between Ozzy Osbourne and Joey Ramone leads to absolutely no regrets - but some words of wisdom and an understanding of unrequited love...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Remember You

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to all fans of Black Sabbath and the Ramones who like this sort of story!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I am making no money from this, and it never happened! Please don't sue!
> 
> This story is based on a real tour, but comes purely from my imagination. I could find no accounts online if Joey and Ozzy had ever met in 1978 and whether, if so, they got along or not, and I was intrigued as to what they would be like as a pairing. This is the result!
> 
> Many thanks to my beta who wishes to remain anonymous.

For the rest of his life, Ozzy Osbourne knew he would remember the night he slept with Joey Ramone – and the morning after as well.

Too often Ozzy had woken up in bed beside someone after a night of drunken debauchery, not recalling who she was, or, occasionally, who he was (sometimes it was fun to just be able to pound into someone without having to worry about possibly knocking them up). But Joey had been different from the start. And it wasn’t only because a bloke who was nearly six feet six inches tall had to be pretty fucking memorable anyway. There was something about Joey from the very beginning that had commanded Ozzy’s attention. From the moment, in fact, when Ozzy had first seen Joey up on stage.

The Ramones had been the opening act for Black Sabbath at several shows during their US tour in 1978. And the fans of Black Sabbath had not taken well to the Ramones at all. Choruses of boos and showers of debris had greeted the young punk band from the first second they took to the stage. But Ozzy had managed to catch a little of the Ramones’s set when backstage one night and was fascinated by what he saw – in particular by Joey.

The music had been so different from what Ozzy’s own band was producing – it was something new, so raw and so vital. It was a breath of fresh air for a while, a bit of a welcome distraction, especially since Ozzy was thinking at the time that the last two Sabbath albums were complete shit, and he was so pissed off at Tony Iommi about the band’s direction and so much more besides that he felt like leaving the group or getting himself fired or just getting blind drunk or something (frequently, he ended up choosing the last option). Watching Joey, however, was not only a diversion – it was a revelation.

As Joey stood on stage, a half-filled beer cup had struck him in the face, froth spraying all over his leather jacket and onto the mic stand. Joey had shaken it off as if he had hardly felt it and began to sing, his voice powerful and confident as he raised one fist into the air in defiance. He stood tall and magnificent, so far above the rabble of the crowd in so many ways, and Ozzy could not tear his eyes away from the Ramones frontman.

Joey had further impressed Ozzy at the party after the show. When the two men had first spoken, Joey seemed quite reticent at first, but Ozzy had persisted in getting to know him, and with some more talking and a few more drinks, Joey was able to get past his initial shyness and displayed a delightful sense of humor, a dry wit that kept Ozzy’s attention in a rapt state and had him frequently cracking up with laughter. 

That aspect of Joey’s personality completely captivated Ozzy. It was a relief not to have to play the clown all the time, as Ozzy usually found himself doing in situations like those to break the ice. The two of them were soon wholly at ease with one another, and Ozzy then found himself suggesting that they go back to his hotel room, for yet more drinking and talking, away from all the other people vying for their attention. Joey had eagerly agreed.

Ozzy’s accommodations were far more luxurious than those Joey had been inhabiting, but that did not seem to intimidate Joey who readily sat on the bed beside Ozzy and swigged champagne straight out of the bottle as Ozzy was doing. The pair cracked jokes that seemed more hilarious than they probably really were, and took turns attempting to imitate each other’s accents, becoming ever more amused at their increasingly slurred tones.

It was quite a surprise when Joey leaned forward, slightly unsteady, and kissed Ozzy on the lips, sloppy wine-scented kisses that were nonetheless gentle and sweet. But Ozzy didn’t object at all, and soon his cock was fiercely hard as he kissed Joey back, claiming the other’s mouth a little too roughly, but with real passion and lust. Joey was so strangely beautiful, and Ozzy knew that one way or another, he had to have him.

Somehow they both got all their clothes off and fell together, a tangle of limbs on the bed. Joey’s chest was completely smooth, his skin was warm and his hair smelled nice. Ozzy couldn’t help but wind his fingers in its tousled length, loving the silkiness of it as their lips met again, awkwardly at first, then with kisses that were even more deep and searching than those earlier.

Joey had either done this before or knew exactly what he wanted from the start, Ozzy found himself thinking as he lay on his back and the slender young man had sat astride him, lubed and stretched with goodness only knew what, and rode his cock hard. Joey looked so young and vulnerable without his shades, so very pale and exquisite, and Ozzy could only gasp and pant as he held onto Joey’s slim hips for dear life to steady him. Joey was tighter than any other man Ozzy had bedded, feeling so hot and slick and perfect around Ozzy’s hardened shaft, and the sex, although drunken and a little clumsy, was mind-blowing. 

But it was the haunting events that followed which would remain in Ozzy’s memory for the rest of his life.

Hours later, Ozzy had woken to hear a voice murmuring softly beside him; he could not tell whose voice it was at first, only that it was an American voice tenderly uttering the name, “John? John?” over and over again. With his head throbbing from fatigue and alcohol, Ozzy had briefly wondered why somebody so far from home would be calling him by his real name.

Then he began to recall what had happened and remembered who he had ended up in bed with. Joey obviously wasn’t calling out to him. He must have been dreaming of his guitarist and bandleader, Johnny Ramone.

Ozzy realized that he didn’t blame Joey in the slightest for his feelings. There was something about tough guys who played the guitar – sexy, domineering tough guys who played the guitar. Part of the reason why Ozzy was so furious at Tony was because of the unrequited love that still made Ozzy’s heart ache more than he was willing to admit. It made sense that Joey would have similar thoughts about Johnny Ramone. Ozzy briefly wondered if Johnny had ever hit Joey, the way Tony had occasionally done to Ozzy when things were shitty, and felt a surge of anger. He would personally have liked to thump anyone who laid as much as one finger on beautiful, frail Joey.

He had drifted back to sleep again shortly after, only to be woken by movements and sounds nearby as the dawn began to cast muted sunbeams through the hotel curtains. Ozzy opened his eyes to see Joey struggling into his clothes – the Ramones singer had donned his ever-present shades first – and he heard him muttering frantically, “Oh shit, oh shit, Johnny’s gonna kill me!” 

Ozzy regarded him solemnly for a few seconds, and then he finally spoke.

“Look, Joey mate. I’d tell him if I were you.”

Joey froze where he stood, his whole body stiffening in shock. “What – how did you…” he quavered, but seemed otherwise lost for words.

“Because I’ve been where you are,” Ozzy said simply, not wanting to reveal how indiscreet Joey had been by talking in his sleep. “I can tell how it hurts you because I know how it feels. And my advice to you is, tell the man what’s going on in your head! Take the risk! Don’t let this stay inside of you and make you sick. Even if he gets mad, it’s better than saying nothing and hurting for the rest of your life. Don’t make the same fucking mistake I did. It’s not worth the pain, just tell him!”

Taking a deep breath, Joey finally nodded, whispering only, “Yeah.” He stood still with his head bowed for a few moments, then hurriedly put on the rest of his clothes. He briefly bent to kiss Ozzy on the lips once more, the soft touch of his mouth so affectionate it almost made Ozzy melt within.

“Thanks, Ozzy. For everything,” Joey told him, and then dashed out of the room towards the elevator.

He was out of Ozzy’s life for the time being, but never far away from his thoughts.


End file.
